


His beloved

by Atse Hashke (chabulous)



Category: Lucifer (Comic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:56:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8095924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chabulous/pseuds/Atse%20Hashke
Summary: When Lucifer and the God of Fire and Brimstone meet and Morningstar is out of tricks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language, thus there might be some mistakes. Another short one from me.

The pungent stench woke him up. No, not that. It’s not even the pain in his back, which felt as if the hounds of Hell mistook him for their chew toy, gnawing on his wings until there was nothing more than a bloody mess left of them. He could no longer muster up a single spark of light. The cold flames would no longer coil around him and protect the angel sentenced to eternal damnation. There was nothing he wanted more now than to fall back again into the embrace of darkness, the sweet oblivion never was so tempting.

Although he was awake, he still couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened. As soon as he’s conscious again, the smells and the images crumpled all together attacked his senses, interfering in his perception of time and reality. It’s not as much him reacting as it is his body. He’s certain that there were strings attached to his limbs and some cruel puppeteer decided to play a joke on him, because as soon as he moved, spasms took over him and he threw up. Could angels even vomit? At that moment he realised it wasn’t the first time and the source of the putrid smell from before was the puddle of his own blood mixed with half-digested alcohol. His eyes followed the trail of blood splattered all over the floor and although he had no recollection of it, he’s certain he must have been crawling at some point. Disappointment and disgust for his own self filled him completely. There’s nobody else he could channel those emotions towards, nobody to blame for his pathetic state.

When his senses finally grew accustomed to the new situation - dulling the cluster of feelings enough so that he could think and focus on something else than the knot of self-hatred, that was the only familiar emotion he suddenly clung to - he’s heard a breath. Or more like the breath let itself be heard by him. It required great effort from him to turn around and see the source of it.

He stood so close, and yet Lucifer was oblivious of His existence until the Presence let Himself be seen by His son. The former Devil wanted to, needed to get up and stand proud in front of him, but he hardly have brought himself up to his knees. He’s too weak to even lift his head up and look into the eyes of the body God had chosen to greet him in. But he didn’t need to - the image soon invaded his mind, he saw his own reflection standing above him, the distaste that was present in his own mind was painted on the face of his duplicate. The Devil’s triumph over Morningstar.

Lucifer laughed and soon after the cough fit followed. He wanted to spit in his Father’s face, in the face of his own. Once again, he felt the invisible collar tightening around his neck, the grip God has had on him since the very beginning, the cage he was trying so hard to escape. Now, he finally ran out of breath. No more could he shake off the shackles put on him, on his own actions and thoughts. He’s nothing more but a prisoner, like many - like everyone forced to live within the Creation.

his will is not his own.

‘You chose to come back, Lucifer,’ he didn’t as much hear the Voice, as he felt it. It rang in every and each of his bones, reverberating, drilling; it was enough to make one want to surrender, let Him become a shepherd, who’d safely lead you back to the flock, so you’d never have to experience His scolding again. It’s an agony; the never-ending fever. And yet, Lucifer finally managed to climb back onto his legs. He’s but a flickering light against the majesty of the Presence. It’s true, he made a choice of coming back into the Creation. And it must have been your choices that led you here - the thought appeared but before Lucifer was able to pinpoint whether it was a thought of his own or an intruder, it blended in with all the other thoughts. ‘You’ve given up on everything, but I can make you whole again, Willpower.’

Lucifer tried to laugh, but ended up letting out short gasping noises. The Presence did not open his mouth to speak to him, not even once. Every word, every syllable, was the knife twisted deep within him, causing him to lose his breath and choke on air. It was the torture, which was draining him of all the power.

his will is not his own.

The sudden pain in his back, Lucifer tried to reach the throbbing wounds, but before he was able to do anything, another convulsion took over his body and from the wounds, three sets of pitch black wings shot into the air, feathers didn’t look as delicate as they used to be, they’re as if thorns had replaced all the fluff. He groaned and fell onto his knees.

strings attached.

The Devil looks up at God, there’s resentment in his eyes, there’s hatred, there’s… They become empty and then he lowers his head, accepting the fate. “I will kill you,” he whispers. “Even if it happens after I’ve killed everyone else. I will find you and kill you, Father”

But…

HIS WILL IS NOT HIS OWN.


End file.
